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The last couple weeks have been so bad that I haven’t even updated my Twitter with my headache/migraine status. I’ve had some great swings — particularly after a massage — but they’ve only lasted a short time.

An irritating symptom right now is that I don’t get tired, but completely worn out, which then triggers the rest of the migraine cycle. With diversions like writing posts for when I’m gone in September, sleuthing for cat messes and packing for vacation, I have plenty of opportunities for exhaustion.

I apologize for whining. My bursts of energy ensure that I’m seeing a bright side and I’ve kept myself from being not not happy. But I’m still worn down from the cycle and am ready for it to pass.

I’m sorry if you’ve e-mailed me and I haven’t gotten back to you. You’re on my mind, but I just can’t get to it.

A sensitive sniffer comes in handy to search the basement for presents left behind by the neighborhood cat, who must have slipped in while Hart was taking out the trash. Since one of my migraine symptoms is sensitivity to smell, I’m a natural for the task. Ew.

The cat had to leave more than one gift in the 18 hours he spent there. Right? I’m trolling around our disaster of a basement, trying to find where it might be. The nooks and crannies and junk piled high make the space a cat’s dream. They also prevent me from getting close enough to sniff out the remaining presents.

Some believe that migraineurs always have a keen sense of smell, whether they have a migraine or not. It seems that this belief is held more by patients than researchers. More common is that right before or during a migraine, people have a heightened sense of smell. This could be related to smells being a migraine trigger for many of us. Olfactory hallucinations right before or during a migraine is the idea best supported by research. These tend to be bad smells, like garbage or dog messes.

(An interesting aside: Migraineurs and other people with headache, particularly those who have odor triggers may develop a fear of or aversion to certain smells, called osmophobia.)

Unfortunately, my migraine has worsened. It will be difficult to
tell if I smell real odors better or am hallucinating them.In any case, my scent-sleuthing skills will ensure that I experience all the smells a basement has to offer.

I can’t find good online resources about migraine and smell. If you have any information or want to share your experience with smell, please leave a comment.

Last week, my friend and yoga teacher used some wonderful adjectives to describe me. We were in class, so all I could do was thank her. There was no chance for me to shrug her off, which I probably would have otherwise. In the meditation at the end of class, her kindness sunk in without judgment or dismissal.

How many times have you been told to “just take the compliment”? Our need to shrug them off is so strong that usually the person who is paying you the compliment has to tell you to shut up and take what he or she is saying. At least that’s how it is for me.

Think about the language I just used. Taking a compliment is merely putting up with what you’re being told. Compare this to accepting a compliment: you not only receive the words from the complimenter, you accept that the description may apply to you. Believing the compliment is exactly as it sounds — and it is really hard to do.

When someone pays you a compliment, they believe what they’re saying, otherwise they wouldn’t be saying it. (OK, this isn’t always true, but think about nice things people have said about you — I bet you’ll find most people have meant what they said.)

I cringe remembering all the times someone told me I was brave to face my illness head-on and I responded that I have no choice. I finally realize that I do have a choice. I could be hiding under the covers or complaining about how how bad I’ve got it.

Self-esteem suffers with the emotional ups and downs of any life-changing illness, which includes migraine and other headache disorders. When someone gives you a boost, believe it! I’m trying to.

ChronicBabe Editrix Jenni and her husband Steve’s condo was destroyed in Chicago’s storms. The are displaced from their home for at least six months. Please keep them in your thoughts and prayers as they rebuild their home and lives.

To send your love, please leave a comment on this post and I’ll make sure she sees it. That will make her overflowing inbox a little less daunting.

[R]esearchers studied 76 consecutive migraine patients at least 16 years of age, evaluating them at the beginning of the study and again after 16 weeks of treatment with nadolol at 40 milligrams per day or topiramate at 100 milligrams per day. The study was completed by 61 of the patients.

The results of the Hospital Anxiety and Depression Scale revealed a mild anxiety state and a moderate depressive state at the beginning of the study, which both remained unchanged after therapy.

The migraine-related quality of life questionnaire score indicated statistically significant improvements with treatment.

Insurance is an ongoing nightmare for practically everyone. If you need more triptans (a common type of migraine abortive) a month than your plan allows, you’re in for a real hassle. Without insurance they are, of course, mighty pricey.

Kathy, a reader, is faced with a new bureaucratic hurdle that I’ve never seen before. Her story follows. She’d appreciate any advice you can give.

I just had to share this with someone that could understand, and
maybe you have some suggestions as to whether anything can be done. I was just
informed by my insurance company that I can now only get 4 Maxalt tablets at a
time. I can get 8 per month (down from the 9 per month it used to be) but I
have to go in to the pharmacy TWICE per month. Maxalt is the least troublesome
of the triptans for me and enables me to keep working with a migraine. My
migraines usually last 3 days (requiring 6 Maxalt) and CAN last 5 – 6
days. It is so infuriating that an insurance company can do this.

Their explanation was that studies have shown that most people (?)
only refill their prescription of 9 tablets once every 3 months. 38% of the
prescriptions are never refilled. So they decided that 3 pills is a 30 day
supply. Have you ever heard of anyone being successful in fighting something
like this? Any ideas on what to do?

Even if you don’t have suggestions for Kathy, eave a comment with your story — whether good or bad — about getting the meds you need. I and other readers will certainly benefit from your experience.

Myofascial release is one of the new therapies I’m trying now. The three sessions I’ve had have been mentally and physically relaxing. A severe migraine dropped to a mild headache after Saturday’s session. The relief only lasted an hour, but what a wonderful hour it was. I went into today’s session with a severe migraine and left with a mild one. Nearly three hours later, the pain is hovering between mild and moderate.

Never heard of myofascial release? Neither had I until a reader mentioned it to me. It’s a massage technique that uses friction and sustained pressure to release fascia. Fascia is a connective tissue that envelopes or binds internal body structures to support, separate and protect them.

Normal fascia is relaxed and stretches and moves easily. Injury, tight muscles, hunched shoulders and slouching contribute to tightening fascia. Effects are cumulative, so repetitive motions or bad posture stiffen fascia more and more over time. The therapy seeks to release the fascia, returning it to a relaxed state.

It may seem strange to target connective tissue to treat headaches. Is there anyone who has headaches or migraines, but completely relaxed muscles? Tight muscles indicate that fascia is tight, too. (That’s my take on it at least.)

Whether my constantly tight neck, jaw and shoulders is a result of my migraines or a trigger of them (or both), they are still sore. The therapy won’t cure my headache disorder, but it may reduce the intensity of my headaches. At the very least, it soothes the pain in my shoulders and neck.

As with nearly every alternative or complementary therapy, myofascial release is often called
quackery. Whatever. It feels good and helps me unwind more than other types of massage ever have.

Physical therapist John F. Barnes, a practitioner and educator of the technique, has an in-depth explanation of myofascial therapy and fascia. (I know nothing about him as a practitioner or his clinics, but the explanation fits with what I’ve learned from my massage therapist.)